“It would have been unpardonable in a society like that of the United Irishmen, if, among their numerous addresses, none was to be found to the firebrand philosopher, Priestley. ‘Farewell,’ say they, in their consolatory address to him,—‘farewell, great and good man! Your change of place will give room for the matchless activity of your genius; and you will take a sublime pleasure in bestowing on Britain the benefit of your future discoveries.’ Every honest man ought to wish that this were true; for the doctor has already made some discoveries of the utmost importance to future chemical emigrants, if he could be prevailed on to publish them. He might let his brethren into the secret of buying land (or rather rock) at a dollar an acre, and selling it again at ninepence-halfpenny. This is a sort of anti-chemistry, by which copper is extracted from silver; and the process by which it is accomplished must certainly be a desideratum in the learned world. The doctor might also favour curious foreigners with the feats of those American magi, vulgarly called land-surveyors, whose potent art levels the mountain with the valley, makes the rough way smooth, the crooked straight; whose creative pencil calls into being nodding woods and verdant lawns; and, like the rod of Moses, makes rivulets gush from the solid rock.
“‘Farewell,’ continue the United Irishmen, ‘farewell, great and good man; but, before you go, we beseech a portion of your parting prayer’ (down upon your marrow-bones, reader) ‘for Archibald Hamilton Rowan, Muir, Palmer, Margarot, and Gerald, who are now, like you, preparing to cross the bleak ocean. Farewell! soon will you embrace your sons on the American shore, Washington will take you by the hand, and the shade of Franklin look down, with calm delight on the first statesman of the age, extending his protection to its first philosopher.’ Here is certainly some mistake in the close of this farewell. What do they mean by the shade of Franklin looking down? To look down on a person one must be in an elevated situation; and I fancy it is pretty generally believed, by those who understand the geography of the invisible world, that Franklin’s shade, as it is termed, has taken a different route, &c.”
Meanwhile, the ferment of the public mind over the British Treaty was now so intensified, that the people were becoming frantic with rage. Jay was hung in effigy, and the democratic press poured forth upon his head an untiring volley of misrepresentation and abuse. In Virginia, there was an open threat of secession, in case of the treaty being ratified. At Boston, there were riots. The treaty reached America in March, but was not presented to the Senate till early in June; but its articles got wind, in some way or other, and were fully discussed by the press and the radical clubs long before being entertained by the Legislature.
An opportunity soon occurred, for Mr. Cobbett to produce another apology for Anti-Gallic principles. A pamphlet appeared, in the course of the summer, under the title of “The Letters of Franklin,” dealing with the treaty question, in a strongly dissuasive manner.[13]
In August, therefore, Mr. Bradford had another work, at the hands of the now-celebrated Peter Porcupine, entitled, “A Little Plain English, addressed to the People of the United States, on the Treaty, &c., in answer to ‘The Letters of Franklin.’” This is, in some respects, one of the best of Cobbett’s writings. It is almost purely argumentative, and there is a sobriety of tone, and a seriousness about its logic, which contrast well with the humour, and even buffoonery, in which he had previously indulged. There was less to joke about. His opponents (and especially this “Franklin”) were becoming illogical in their rage. Mr. Madison wanted to force all the nations of Europe, and especially Great Britain, into the acceptance of a commercial treaty; and this one, alas! was positively being carried through in a friendly spirit. England was noted for her perfidy and double-dealing, and they therefore could not make a treaty with her; but, as Mr. Cobbett pointed out, her bad character was rather a reason for binding her hands, and controlling her overreaching ways. And, as to the magnanimity of the French Republic, and its desire to “protect” its sister, it was clear that little could be hoped for on that score, seeing that she was losing part of her own colonies and making war upon the remainder; besides that it was notorious that French privateering was quite as bad as English, as far as it could go, in its depredations on American commerce. In reality, Cobbett’s aim was to deter the Americans from a French alliance, as “Franklin’s” desire was to secure it. And “Franklin,” so ridiculous as to urge the impeachment of the President, for not having courted the French, and for having sent “the slave, the coward, the traitor” Jay (of all men) as envoy to Great Britain, is fairly, but mercilessly exposed.
“A Little Plain English” soon appeared in London, being reprinted by Rivington, and was instantly welcomed with the applause it deserved. It was considered to prove, to every impartial mind, that the engagement entered into between the two countries was honourable to both. The eloquent and sparkling language, in which his ideas were conveyed, raised the author into the first rank of English writers. And, on account of his loyal sentiments, with their anti-revolutionary bias, Mr. Cobbett was declared, by people at home, to have rendered inestimable services to his native land.
The British Treaty was, however, in far greater peril than could be averted by the soundest arguments or the warmest loyalty. Whilst the treaty was being discussed throughout the States, an incident occurred which eventually laid bare the real source of the danger which threatened the amicable negotiations; that danger proved to be French intrigue.
The incident alluded to was one of that class which furnish the sensational parts of a melodrama, where a fortunate chance renders nugatory the craftiest of plans, and buries your villain beneath the ruin of his own devices. One Captain Goddard (the hero of the piece, and, of course, a British Tar) has the ill-luck to fall into the hands of a French privateer. The latter, proceeding homeward from the American shores, and in charge of despatches from Fauchet, the French envoy at Philadelphia, is herself obliged, in turn, to strike her colours to a British frigate, almost within sight of home. Her captain, pursuant to instructions, goes below to secure Fauchet’s despatches; and, as the frigate’s boat approaches, commits the precious documents to the waves. But there’s a British Tar aboard, who, with instinctive readiness understanding the situation, plunges into the sea, and secures the packet, is picked up by the boat, and checkmates “Mossoo.” And Captain Goddard, as he stands dripping on the deck, little knows what a prize has fallen to his turn!
For, these intercepted despatches contained highly-compromising matter. A certain member of Washington’s administration, Edmund Randolph,[14] Secretary of State, was a thorough-paced Radical, and an opponent of the President’s policy. Up to the end of July, or the beginning of August, 1795, he had led the opposition to the treaty; and, although the Senate and the people had become not only reconciled to its provisions, but desirous that the affair should be settled, Washington still felt unable to conclude it, on account of the dissensions in his Cabinet. But, on the 14th of August, Randolph being absent from the council, the treaty was ratified. The surprise of the latter was great, when he heard of this sudden deliberation; and, on learning the cause, his only resource was to resign his appointment, and to go home and consider his future. For it actually appeared, that one of the French Minister’s letters thus intercepted described an interview with Randolph, in which the latter, and two or three other persons, expected pecuniary assistance in return for their support of French ascendancy. So, when the English Embassy produced these precious documents, just received from London, and urged the immediate ratification of the treaty, there was only one course for Washington to pursue, viz. to accede to the request. Mr. Randolph was in sufficient disgrace; but he was foolish enough to make it widely known, by devoting more than a hundred pages of octavo to full details of the circumstances which led to his abrupt departure from office.[15] These pages were given to the public about the middle of December; and among that eager public was Mr. William Cobbett,—who saw his opportunity.
So, on the 1st of January, 1796, is announced “A New Year’s Gift to the Democrats; or, Observations on a Pamphlet, entitled, ‘A Vindication of Mr. Randolph’s Resignation,’ by Peter Porcupine;” which turns out to be a very smart piece of writing, calculated to disturb the equanimity of every French sympathizer in the States.
The preface to “A New Year’s Gift,” &c. is worth giving in full:—
“The Democrats and I have long been in the friendly habit of making presents to each other; and, this being a season of the year when an interchange of civilities of this kind is more particularly looked for, I was just turning about me for a subject that might serve as some little mark of my attention, when the vindication of Mr. Randolph’s resignation made its long-looked-for appearance.
“If the reader knows anything of the Democrats, he will allow that this vindication is most eminently calculated to furnish me with the means of making them a grateful offering: and I was the more anxious to be prompt in the performance of this duty of etiquette, as, from their present formidable situation, it was to be feared, that they might have the will as well as the power to turn their vengeance against me, in case of the slightest neglect.
“When we take a view of their affairs for a year past, it is impossible not to perceive that they are wonderfully improved. They have had address sufficient to stir up the mob to burn the greatest part of the Federal senators in effigy; they have dared publickly and vilely to traduce the President of the United States; their own President has been elected a member of the legislature of Pennsylvania; the legislature of Virginia has declared in their favour; and a fresh importation of thieves and traitors from Ireland is daily expected to arrive. These are great and solid advantages, and when we add to them the ‘precious confessions,’ which they may, by the help of ‘some thousands of dollars,’ be able to draw from their new and communicative brother, we cannot help regarding their club as the rising sun of this country.
“To this great luminary, then, I kneel; not to ask a boon, but to offer one; and such a one as I hope will be acceptable, as its great object is to commemorate actions flowing from the purest principles of democracy.”
As for the pamphlet itself, it was in Porcupine’s best style; running through the items, seriatim, to which Randolph had inconsiderately given needless publicity. Mr. Bradford himself admired it, and showed it gleefully to his leading customers; several of whom stated that it had been intended to answer Randolph’s “Vindication,” but that it was now unnecessary, seeing that Peter Porcupine was in the field; also that the officers of government were exceedingly delighted with his publications.
[1] Matthew Carey, an Irishman, born in Dublin, 1760. At a very early age he was prosecuted for a “libel” on the Government, and retired to Paris for a time, where he made the acquaintance of Franklin and Lafayette. He emigrated to Philadelphia in 1784, and in the following year started the Pennsylvania Herald. In 1793 he commenced the bookselling and printing business, which he continued prosperously for thirty years. Carey was a public-spirited citizen of Philadelphia for more than half a century. At his death, in his eightieth year, his remains were followed to the grave by thousands who recollected with gratitude his philanthropic labours. Carey’s family is still represented among the leading Philadelphians.
[2] As Cobbett himself very correctly says, “The war once ended, and the object of that war obtained, … the Congress became an inefficient body, and each State, having carefully retained its independent sovereignty, looked to its particular regulations, and its separate interests, which were often (not to say always) opposed to the regulations and the interests of all the other States.—“P. P. Works,” i. 38.
[3] “Being fresh from the French Revolution, while in its first and pure stage, and consequently whetted up in my own republican principles, I found a state of things, in the general society of the place (New York), which I could not have supposed possible. Being a stranger there, I was feasted from table to table, at large set dinners, the parties generally from twenty to thirty. The Revolution I had left, and that we had just gone through in the recent change of our own Government, being the common topics of conversation, I was astonished to find the general prevalence of monarchical sentiments, insomuch that in maintaining those of republicanism, I had always the whole company on my hands, never scarcely finding among them a single co-advocate in that argument, unless some old member of Congress happened to be present. The furthest that any one would go, in support of the Republican features of our new Government, would be to say, ‘The present Constitution is well as a beginning, and may be allowed a fair trial; but it is, in fact, only a stepping-stone to something better.’ Among their writers, Denny, the Editor of the Portfolio, who was a kind of oracle with them, and styled the Addison of America, openly avowed his preference of monarchy over all other forms of government, prided himself on the avowal, and maintained it by argument freely and without reserve, in his publications.”—T. J. to Wm. Short, Jan. 8, 1825: Jefferson’s “Writings,” vii. 390.
[4] “In the year 1794, or 5, a Mr. Rutledge, who was a judge in South Carolina, made a speech, in which he besought his country to join itself with the Republic of France in a mortal war against England. ‘She will,’ said he, ‘never forgive us for our success against her, and for our having established a free constitution. Let us, therefore, while she is down, seize her by the throat, strangle her, deliver the world of her tyranny, and thus confer on mankind the greatest of blessings.’ As nearly as I can recollect them, these were his very words. I am sure that I have the ideas correct. I and many more cried aloud against the barbarity of such sentiments. They were condemned in speeches and pamphlets innumerable.”—“Political Register,” xxvi. 422.
[5] Edmond Charles Genest, born 1765, died 1834. He possessed remarkable abilities from his youth, and early entered the diplomatic service. After four years in Russia as Chargé d’Affaires, he was sent to America, as related in the text; and, having been eventually superseded, he elected to remain and become naturalized. His life was thenceforth occupied in promoting improvements in agriculture and in the arts and sciences. (Vide “Biog. Universelle,” also Drake’s “American Biography.”)
[6] For full details of this curious episode, see Jefferson, “Writings,” iv., pp. 32-46; Cobbett, “P. P. Works,” x. 101, et seq.; also the “Annual Register,” for 1793-94.
[7] Vide “Annual Register,” 1794, for the interesting state papers on these topics.
[8] Mr. Jay was a genuine patriot. He was moderate in politics, but no trimmer. After his retirement he devoted himself to questions of social improvement, especially the abolition of slavery.
[9] For a complete analysis of the opposition views on the British Treaty, vide “Life of A. J. Dallas,” pp. 160 et seq. As a specimen of the mad and vindictive feelings then current, see a letter to the editor of the New York Argus, signed “An Individual,” and dated Jan. 17, 1796, in which he informs the editor that the Treaty meets with his entire disapprobation; and continues, “I have come to a solemn resolution, that I will not hereafter import, sell, or consume any goods, wares, or merchandise, the produce or manufacture of Great Britain and her dependencies. I leave others to act as they please, but this is my firm determination with respect to myself whilst the said Treaty continues in force.”
[10] “The Political Progress of Britain; or, An Impartial History of Abuses in the Government of the British Empire, in Europe, Asia, and America. From the Revolution in 1688 to the present time: the whole tending to prove the ruinous Consequences of the popular System of Taxation, War, and Conquest.” It was a little too violent for its purpose; and, although it contained a good deal of truth, the tract was malevolent and unpatriotic, and the author deserved to be prosecuted (from a ministerial point of view).
The preface to the American edition is worth reading, as telling some of the story of the times:—“Advertisement.—The first edition of ‘The Political Progress of Britain’ was published at Edinburgh and London, in autumn, 1792. The sale was lively, and the prospect of future success flattering. The plan was, to give an impartial history of the abuses in government, in a series of pamphlets. But, while the author was preparing for the press a second number, along with a new edition of the first, he was, on the 2nd of January, 1793, apprehended, and with some difficulty made his escape. Two booksellers, who acted as his editors, were prosecuted, and, after a very arbitrary trial, they were condemned, the one to three months, and the other to six months of imprisonment. A revolution will take place in Scotland before the lapse of ten years at farthest, and most likely much sooner. The Scots nation will then certainly think itself bound, by every tie of wisdom, of gratitude, and of justice, to make reparation to these two honest men for the tyranny which they have encountered in the cause of truth. In Britain, authors and editors of pamphlets have long conducted the van of every revolution. They compose a kind of forlorn hope on the skirts of battle; and though they may often want experience, or influence, to marshal the main body, they yet enjoy the honour and the danger of the first rank, in storming the ramparts of oppression.
“The verdict of a packed jury did not alter the opinions of those who had approved of the publications. Five times its original price hath, since its suppression, been offered in Edinburgh for a copy. At London, a new edition was printed by Ridgway and Symonds, two booksellers, confined in Newgate for publishing political writings. They sell the pamphlet, and others of the same tendency, openly in prison. It is next to impossible for despotism to overwhelm the divine art of printing,” &c., &c.
Mr. Callender eventually became a newspaper editor at Richmond, Va., and distinguished himself as an uncompromising opponent of the Federalist administrations.
[11] It cannot be said that the title of “Porcupine” was altogether appropriate. The vulgar notion (derived from Pliny) that this harmless animal had the power of shooting its quills at an adversary was probably the origin of the appellation.
[12] “A Rub from Snub; or, a Cursory Analytical Epistle; addressed to Peter Porcupine, author of the Bone to Gnaw, Kick for a Bite, &c., &c. Containing Glad Tidings for the Democrats, and a word of comfort to Mrs. S. Rowson, wherein the said Porcupine’s moral, political, critical, and literary character is fully illustrated.” (Philadelphia, 1795.) Here is a little specimen of the style:—“Nature must have had the hysterics when you were born; mastiffs howled, and owls sang anthems to congratulate you into existence, and your jaws must have been furnished with indissoluble tusks expressive of the disposition that was inspired within you.”
Mrs. Rowson was an English emigrant, who had arrived in Philadelphia in 1793, and soon blazed forth as an actress and novelist, and enjoyed great popularity. One of her novels is still reprinted. Cobbett had made a review of the “roma-drama-poetic works of Mrs. S. Rowson” the object of some humour in “A Kick for a Bite.”
[13] It does not appear to be known who was the author of these anonymous “letters.” Cobbett charged A. J. Dallas with the authorship; and they certainly have the same stamp as Dallas’s “Features of the English Treaty.” But it must be left to conjecture. Cobbett gives his reason for selecting the “Letters” to write down, out of all “the volumes, or rather bales,” that had already appeared, because these seemed to him the fairest sample of the opinions and language of the opposers of the treaty. They had originally appeared in the Aurora newspaper.
[14] Edmund Randolph, sometime governor of Virginia, and a very eminent lawyer of his day. He supported the Revolution, and was disinherited by his father for deserting the royal cause. He was Secretary of State 1794-5. Born 1753, died 1813.
[15] “A Vindication of Mr. Randolph’s Resignation.” (Philadelphia, S. H. Smith, 1795.) Mr. Smith advertises afterwards (Aurora of Feb. 17, 1796) that a copyright had been taken out for the “Vindication,” so that as many entire copies might be diffused as possible; also to cover the cost of printing. Also, he now gives permission to all the printers in the United States to republish it if they like.
Mr. Thomas Bradford’s Political Book Store, No. 8, South Front Street, is furnished with all the latest publications. The works of Paine, Volney, Godwin and others, fill his shelves, and those of the new Federal light enliven his counter. He is doing a roaring trade; senators look in and gossip, and laugh over Porcupine; members from the House of Representatives come in and flatter the writer, and want to be blessed with a sight of him—“one wanted to treat me to a supper, another wanted to shake hands with me, and a third wanted to embrace me.”
But Mr. Cobbett is getting too independent. On the next proposal to publish, he actually wants to have a voice in the matter, over some detail; and, early in 1796, their engagements are sundered.
The plan for opening the new year was a commentary on the debates in Congress, under the title of “The Prospect from the Congress Gallery.” The first number appeared at the end of January. The circumstances under which Cobbett broke off with his publisher are thus given in the American autobiography (published in the ensuing August):
“My concerns with Mr. Bradford closed with “The Prospect from the Congress Gallery;” and, as our separation has given rise to conjectures and reports, I shall trouble the reader with an explanation of the matter. I proposed making a mere collection of the debates, with here and there a note by way of remarks. It was not my intention to publish it in numbers, but at the end of the session, in one volume; but Mr. Bradford, fearing a want of success in this form, determined on publishing in numbers. This was without my approbation, as was also a subscription that was opened for the support of the work. When about half a Number was finished, I was informed that many gentlemen had expressed their desire, that the work might contain a good deal of original matter, and few debates. In consequence of this, I was requested to alter my plan; I said I would, but that I would by no means undertake to continue the work.
“The first Number, as it was called (but not by me) was published, and its success led Mr. Bradford to press for a continuation. His son offered me, I believe, a hundred dollars a Number, in place of eighteen; and, I should have accepted his offer, had it not been for a word that escaped him during the conversation. He observed, that their customers would be much disappointed, for that, his father had promised a continuation, and that it should be made very interesting. This slip of the tongue opened my eyes at once. What! a bookseller undertake to promise that I should write, and that I should write to please his customers too! No; if all his customers, if all the Congress with the President at their head, had come and solicited me; nay, had my salvation depended on a compliance, I would not have written another line.
“I was fully employed at this time, having a translation on my hands for Mr. Moreau de St. Méry, as well as another work which took up a great deal of my time; so that, I believe, I should not have published the Censor had it not been to convince the customers of Mr. Bradford, that I was not in his pay; that I was not the puppet and he the showman. That, whatever merits or demerits my writings might have, no part of them fell to his share.”
The “Prospect” was pretty successful; and it was resolved to continue it occasionally. The next number was not published, however, till the end of March; and the title was changed to “The Political Censor.” But we now find on the title-page the name of Benjamin Davies, at No. 68, High Street—so it appears that the dissatisfaction with Mr. Bradford had some meaning in it. Between the first and second numbers of the “Censor,” Peter Porcupine produced a little book on French “horrors,” which had a great sale both in America and England, under the name of “The Bloody Buoy, thrown out as a Warning to the Political Pilots of all Nations: or, a faithful Relation of a Multitude of Acts of Horrid Barbarity, such as the Eye never witnessed, the Tongue expressed, or the Imagination conceived, until the Commencement of the French Revolution,” &c. This was published at Davies’ Book-store, and its announcement in the papers was probably the first intimation that Mr. Bradford had of the impending loss of Porcupine’s custom.
The later transactions between Cobbett and Bradford are thus disposed of in the autobiography:—
“After the ‘Observations,’ Mr. Bradford and I published together no longer. When a pamphlet was ready for the press, we made a bargain for it, and I took his note of hand, payable in one, two, or three months. That the public may know exactly what gains I have derived from the publications that issued from Mr. Bradford’s, I here subjoin a list of them, and the sums received in payment.
| Dollars. | Cents. | |
| Observations | 0 | 21 |
| Bone to Gnaw, 1st part | 125 | 0 |
| Kick for a Bite | 20 | 0 |
| Bone to Gnaw, 2nd part | 40 | 0 |
| Plain English | 100 | 0 |
| New Year’s Gift | 100 | 0 |
| Prospect | 18 | 0 |
| Total | 403 | 21 |
“The best way of giving the reader an idea of the generosity of my bookseller is, to tell him, that upon my going into business for myself, I offered to purchase the copyrights of these pamphlets at the same price that I had sold them at. Mr. Bradford refusing to sell, is a clear proof that they were worth more than he gave me, even after they had passed through several editions. Let it not be said, then, that he put a coat upon my back.”
Upon Mr. Bradford finding that “The Political Censor” was to be carried on without his assistance and patronage, he wrote to Cobbett requesting him to fulfil the contract, which, he alleged, existed between them by the sale of the first “Prospect,” and threatened an “applycation” to the laws of his country, &c. Mr. Cobbett, remarking on this, says,—
“It is something truly singular, that Mr. Bradford should threaten me with a prosecution for not writing, just at the moment that others threatened me with a prosecution for writing. It seemed a little difficult to set both at open defiance, yet this was done, by continuing to write, and by employing another bookseller. Indeed, these booksellers in general are a cruel race. They imagine that the soul and body of every author that falls into their hands is their exclusive property. They have adopted the birdcatcher’s maxim: ‘A bird that can sing, and won’t sing, ought to be made sing.’ Whenever their devils are out of employment the drudging goblin of an author must sharpen up his pen, and never think of repose till he is relieved by the arrival of a more profitable job. Then the wretch may remain as undisturbed as a sleep-mouse in winter, while the stupid dolt, whom he has clad and fattened, receives the applause.”
An influential and respectable citizen of Philadelphia, at this period, was Benjamin Franklin Bache;[1] a strong Democrat, and particularly zealous on behalf of French opinions. He conducted a daily newspaper, the Aurora, and kept a political book-store. The Aurora was one of the ablest and most influential journals on the American Continent; besides being, in its general appearance, a newspaper which put to shame even the London ones of that day. And the Editor and publisher of the Aurora, in his capacity of chief-whipper-in to the Democrats of Pennsylvania, among other matters, thought proper to allow his paper to become the vehicle for abusing Peter Porcupine. This newspaper, having escaped the usual fate of ephemeral publications, will furnish us with the means of judging exactly what Peter’s opponents thought of him.
As a specimen of the opposing factions, however, we will, at present, only refer to two New York papers.
Minerva, Jan. 15, 1796.
“Peter Porcupine has given an excellent key to Mr. Randolph’s Vindication. Never was a present better timed, than his New Year’s Gift to the Democrats. Every man who has read the Vindication, should read Peter’s explanations and comments upon it, especially all Whigs, to whom the Argus recommends the perusal of the Vindication. We recommend Peter’s gift to the Democratic Society, and trust that, at their next meeting, they will publish resolutions expressing their approbation of the work, as they have lately done with respect to the president’s answer to the French minister.”
Argus, Jan. 18, 1796.
“An impartial correspondent desires us to say, that of all the vulgar catchpennies that ever he saw in print, the late one of Phineas Porcupine bears off the bell! This Porcupine or Hedgehog, after having fled (on account of his vile treachery to this his native country) for mere bread, became a garreteer writer for the refugees in London, and a clerk to an Old Bailey solicitor there; and it was through the interest of those refugees that this Hedgehog was returned upon us, in the character he now sustains! His views manifestly are to get himself tarred and feathered, that he may go back howling to England, for further promotion; but, from this hint, it is hoped that he will be disappointed by the democratic Philadelphians.”
Mr. Cobbett’s design of opening a shop of his own was, probably, formed very early in this year, 1796, and it may be set down as one result of the discovery that Bradford was making capital out of him. The plan appears to have been delayed for some months, and it was not until July that it was carried out. Meanwhile, several numbers of the “Censor” appeared, at the shop of Mr. Davies, and obtained considerable popularity. The original idea was a review of the political transactions of the past month; with an “account of every democratic trick, whether of native growth, or imported from abroad.” All of which meant, a defence of Great Britain with vigorous Federal partisanship.[2] Here is one extract from the first number, which will illustrate one of the leading topics that occupied the public mind. It must be recollected that the French Government were now more anxious than ever to court American alliance, they having been specially exasperated at the happy result of the treaty negotiations with England. They accordingly instructed Adet, their envoy, to begin the new year by presenting the national colours to the United States. Washington received the attention very graciously, and informed the minister that the colours would be deposited with the archives of the States. But he also considered it right “to exhibit to the two houses of Congress, these evidences of the continued friendship of the French republic.” This was accordingly done, on the 5th of January; and here is Porcupine’s account of the proceedings:—
“I was rather late in my attendance in Congress this day; a circumstance the more distressing, as I found not only the gallery, but even the passage also, full of spectators.… Every person within the walls of this House seemed to be waiting for the development of some great and important mystery. The members were paired off, laying their heads together, whispering and listening with great eagerness; while the Speaker, seated with his chin supported between his right finger and thumb, and his eyes rivetted to the floor, appeared lost, buried alive, as it were, in profundity of thought. Never did wisdom appear more lovely in my eyes.… The seriousness of the members of the House naturally produced the most anxious expectation in the minds of the good citizens in my quarter. A thousand ridiculous inquiries were made, in the twinkling of an eye, which were answered by a thousand still more ridiculous conjectures. One said that a law was going to be read to oblige the Virginians to free their slaves and pay their just debts; but another swore that was impossible. A third declared a second embargo was to be laid; and a fourth observed that it was to hinder the cruel English from carrying off our poor horses, to eat them in the West Indies.… To tell the reader the truth of my opinion, I was afraid that some new confiscating or sequestrating project was on foot; and when Mr. Dayton, the Speaker, awoke from his reverie, and began to speak,—‘Lord have mercy,’ said I, ‘upon the poor British creditors.’ My fears on this account were soon dissipated. The Speaker told us that this message was of the most solemn and serious nature, and he therefore requested both the members of the House and the strangers in the gallery to observe the profoundest silence.
“The reader will easily imagine that a warning like this increased the torture of suspense. It was now that we felt the value of the hearing faculty. I observed my neighbours brushing aside their matted and untutored locks, that nothing might impede the entrance of the glad tidings. We were, as the poet says, ‘all eye, all ear.’ But there was a little man down below, whose anxiety seemed to surpass that of all the rest. He crept to within a very few paces of the leeward side of the chair, and, turning himself sideways, lifted up the left corner of his wig, placing the auricular orifice open and extended, in a direct line with the Speaker’s mouth, so that not a single breath of the precious sounds could possibly escape him. His longing countenance seemed to say, in the language of his countryman, Macbeth:—‘Speak! Speak! had I three ears, by heaven I’d hear thee.’ …
“All at once, as if by the power of magic, the doors flew open, ‘grating on their hinges harsh thunder,’ and the President’s secretary was introduced with an American officer bearing a flag, which I took to be a representation of the day of judgment. It had a thunderbolt in the centre, with a cock perched upon it! the emblems of Almighty vengeance and of watchfulness. At two of the corners the globe was represented in a flame. The staff was covered with black velvet, sad colour of death, and crowned with a Parisian pike,—fatal instrument, on which the bleeding and ghastly heads, nay, even the palpitating hearts of men, women, and children, have so often been presented to the view of the polite and humane inhabitants of that capital.
“Curiosity now gave way to another passion, that of fear. For my part, I am not ashamed to confess, that I never was in such trepidation since I first saw the light of day. Nor were my companions in a more enviable state. I looked round, and beheld the affrighted group huddled up together, like a brood of chickens waiting the mortal grip of the voracious kite. In this general picture of consternation one object attracted particular notice. It was a democrat, who was so fully persuaded that the flag was the harbinger of fate, that he began to anticipate the torments of the world to come. Never did I before behold such dreadful symptoms of a guilty conscience. He was as white as paper, his knees knocked together, his teeth chattered, he wrung his hands, and rolled his eyes, but durst not lift them towards heaven. His voice was like the yell of the inhabitants of the infernal regions. ‘Oh, Franklin Bache! Franklin Bache! Oh! that infernal atheistical calendar!’ This was all we could get from him; but this was enough to assure me that he was one of those unhappy wretches, who had been led astray by the profligate correspondents of Mr. Bache, and by the atheistical decadery calendar; which that gentleman has, with so much unholy zeal, endeavoured to introduce amongst us, in place of the Christian one we, as yet, make use of.
“My attention was called off from this terrific picture of despair by a voice from beneath. A tall spare man, dressed all in black from head to foot … was beginning, in a hollow voice, to read (as I expected) the decrees of fate, but to my agreeable surprise I found it was a decree of the National Convention: it was in the following words, &c.”
It was soon after this date that Cobbett made the acquaintance of Monsieur Talleyrand. The notion that the latter was a spy, was at once formed in Cobbett’s mind; and he long continued to have that idea, on the ground that Talleyrand was received with open arms, very soon after his return to France, by the very men who had proscribed him. There is no real basis for the suspicion (which, indeed, has been entertained in other quarters), but Mr. Cobbett gives very colourable reasons for his belief:—
“First he set up as a merchant and dealer at New York, till he had acquired what knowledge he thought was to be come at among persons engaged in mercantile affairs; then he assumed the character of a gentleman, at the same time removing to Philadelphia, where he got access to persons of the first rank,—all those who were connected with, or in the confidence of, the Government. Some months after his arrival in this city, he left a message with a friend of his, requesting me to meet him at that friend’s house. Several days passed away before the meeting took place. I had no business to call me that way, and therefore I did not go. At last this modern Judas and I got seated by the same fireside. I expected that he wanted to expostulate with me on the severe treatment he had met with at my hands. I had called him an apostate, a hypocrite, and every other name of which he was deserving; I therefore leave the reader to imagine my astonishment, when I heard him begin with complimenting me on my wit and learning. He praised several of my pamphlets, the ‘New Year’s Gift’ in particular, and still spoke of them as mine. I did not acknowledge myself the author, of course; but yet he would insist that I was; or, at any rate, they reflected, he said, infinite honour on the author, let him be who he might. Having carried this species of flattery as far as he judged it safe, he asked me, with a vast deal of apparent seriousness, whether I had received my education at Oxford or at Cambridge! Hitherto I had kept my countenance pretty well; but this abominable stretch of hypocrisy, and the placid mien and silver accent with which it was pronounced, would have forced a laugh from a quaker in the midst of meeting. I don’t recollect what reply I made him, but this I recollect well, I gave him to understand that I was no trout, and consequently was not to be caught by tickling.
“This information led him to something more solid. He began to talk about business. I was no flour merchant,[3] but I taught English; and, as luck would have it, this was the very commodity that Bishop Perigord wanted. If I had taught Thornton’s or Webster’s language,[4] or sold sand or ashes, or pepper-pot, it would have been just the same to him. He knew the English language as well as I did; but he wanted to have dealings with me in some way or other.
“I knew that, notwithstanding his being proscribed at Paris, he was extremely intimate with Adet; and this circumstance led me to suspect his real business in the United States. I therefore did not care to take him as a scholar. I told him that being engaged in a translation for the press, I could not possibly quit home. This difficulty the lame fiend hopped over in a moment. He would very gladly come to my house. I cannot say but it would have been a great satisfaction to me to have seen the ci-devant Bishop of Autun, the guardian of the holy oil that anointed the heads of the descendants of St. Louis, come trudging through the dirt to receive a lesson from me; but, on the other hand, I did not want a French spy to take a survey either of my desk or my house. My price for teaching was six dollars a month; he offered me twenty, but I refused; and before I left him, I gave him clearly to understand that I was not to be purchased.”
Preparations were now being made for opening the bookselling business; and after midsummer the house was ready. The shop was opened on the 11th of July, and Mr. Cobbett took advantage of the opportunity thus furnished to make a grand demonstration. The account of this new start in life is better told in his own words:—